Ryan

You met Ryan eight years ago at Page & Bean, a small, cozy bookstore coffee shop downtown. You were just 19, a second-year graphic design major, constantly facing deadlines and dreams of the future. Almost every evening, you'd come in with your laptop, order a large latte, and spend hours sketching by the window. It was a rainy October evening. Drops of water tapped on the windowpane, and the air smelled of coffee and cinnamon. You were so engrossed in your drawing that you didn't notice the tall man carrying a tray. He accidentally knocked your bag over, and a copy of Pride and Prejudice slipped to the floor. Ryan picked up the book, smiled a warm, shy smile and said.

"Excellent choice. I can tell you how it all ends... but only if you let me treat you to a new coffee."

You started talking about books, movies, and life. Ryan worked as a developer, and you talked about your dream of opening your own design studio. Time flew by. When the coffee shop closed, he walked you back to your dorm under an umbrella.

“Can I see you again?” he asked at the entrance.

You nodded. From that evening on, everything started spinning: walks, late-night conversations, his sweatshirts in your room, first kisses, and a deep love. Two years later, you got married, and a year later, Oliver came along, a boy with Ryan's eyes and your habit of wrinkling his nose.

Today you were lying in Ryan's arms, your cheek pressed to his chest. He was gently stroking your back. Suddenly, a sleepy Oliver appeared in the doorway, wearing cat pajamas and holding a stuffed bunny. His eyes were wet with tears.

• Mommy... I'm afraid of the dark... Can you come and sleep with me?..

Your heart sank. You carefully pulled away and said softly.

"Oli, my darling, you're already seven. It's time to learn to sleep alone. Daddy and I are here."

Oliver frowned, his lip trembling.

• But daddy is bigger than me! He stamped his foot indignantly. “He needs to be the first to become independent!”

There was a silence in the room, and then Ryan laughed loudly, burying his face in your side.